


Losers Club One-Shot series

by Trashhole



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: All the ships concerning the lucky 7, Angst, F/M, First Kisses, First Times, Fluff, I ship everyone with everyone, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, The Losers Club, a little internalized-homophobia, all of it baby, i'll try to do something different for every chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 13:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13614237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashhole/pseuds/Trashhole
Summary: //Hey there anyone who see’s this. I’m starting a new one-short series, because I can’t commit to an actual multi-chapter story. Rip. Anyway. This one-short series will focus on the Losers Club. Specifically, ships made up of the guys and gal from the loser’s club. I’ll try my best to do something different for each ship I end up cranking out. You’ll most likely see tons of, Bichie, Stozier, Beneverly, Reddie, Stanlon, Denscom, Bevchie, Stenbrough, Kaspbrough, etc(maybe). I still haven’t decided if I’ll be doing OT3′s or more, yet. We’ll see. I just hope all who read my stuff, enjoy themselves. That’s it, I think. So yeah, I hope you enjoy!





	1. Sweet ol' Mike Hanlon

**Author's Note:**

> //Be gentle with me guys. This is my first time writing for the IT fandom. I love the book, mini-series and movie so, so much. Also, I know this chapter could have been fleshed out more. It's obvious that I rushed it. I don't know why I rushed it, but I did. So anyway. To start off this new series. Here's a Stanlon one-shot. I love my bois\\\
> 
> //Also. This chapter ISN'T explicit. But future chapters might/will be\\\

"BAHAHAHA! YOU DID WHAT?!" A loud voice boomed throughout the cafeteria. A few of the other students turning their heads to have a look at the owner of said voice. It was none other than one of those losers, Richie Tozier. 

"Oh put a sock in it, Tozier."  One of the other seven, Stanley Uris, replied dryly. "They asked for my help and I agreed to do so. What's so wrong with that?"

"Oh come on, Stan! The people in the prom committee are bigger losers than us! The people that help with prom are probably the same kind of people who sneak a peak at Mrs. Finklemen when she's wearing that short pink dress" They all visibly shivered.

"B-b-beep beep, R-Ruh-Richie" Bill Denbrough, the "leader" of the losers club chimed in. Mouth occupied with chewing up his PB&J sandwich.

"Yeah, shut the fuck up, Rich." The smallest boy of their little group, added. A sour hint to his words. "So, Stanley wants to help organize the prom, instead of finding himself a date. And lending his time to that, instead of preparing for his exams. So what? I think it's brave" The boy finished.

Stan sighed "Thanks, Eddie." His sarcasm flowing out with the words. Eddie seemed none the wiser however, as he simply took a sip of his juice box. A smile spread across his thin lips.

"Hey boys, what we talking about today?" The bright, redhead, and only girl of the losers club sat down next to, Eddie. Placing her tray down as she did.

"Oh, we're just talking about how Stan fucked his prom life harder than I did Eddie's mom. Ooooo up top!" Richie held his hand up in front of Bill. Expecting a high-five. Bill just stared at him.

"Fuh-finish your lunch, R-Richie"

"Okie doke, Mom" And just like that, he was back to eating his lunch. Only noises coming from his mouth now were the annoying munching ones.

"What's he talking about, Stan?" Her gentle way with words was always nice to hear. Any of the losers would agree with that.

"Some of the guys from the prom committee asked me if I wanted to help them organize the event. I said yes. Nothing else to it." he shrugged "Fundraising has already already began, to try and raise money for a good dj and equipment"

"Hey! I could dj for free. No need to buy this whore, Staniel"

"Thanks. But no thanks. I'd actually like the people at the dance to have a good time"

Richie clutched at his chest and swung back in his chair.  "I've been hit! Staniel has killed me. Good job, on killing me! Ya got me!" He mocked. Closing his eyes, sticking his tongue out to the side and then sat till in his chair.

"Knock it off, dip-shit" Eddie growled. Lightly smacking the boy on his arm. "You're making a scene and it's embarrassing" As if Richie was shocked back to life, his eyes shot open and he sprung his body onto Eddie's smaller one. Pressing him into the chair.

"How 'bout we give everyone else a different kind of scene, eh?" His eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner. Eddie's cheeks flushed. Then the smaller boy proceeded to grab onto Richie, trying his best to throw the taller one off.  

"Will y-you t-t-two knock it o-off" The two of them immediately stopped. Richie got back into his chair, and Eddie fixed his shirt. Both of them in unison responding with "Sure, Bill". Bill, now finished with his sandwich, turned to Stan. "So h-how will you guys be r-r-raising the money?"

"Yeah. Prom's in another two months time. What are you going to do?" Beverly added on, after Bill.

"I have a few things to help out with. One of them being the town's car wash. So I expect you all to be there." Richie groaned and in turn Stan rolled his eyes "I'm not saying you have to help. Just show up so I'm not alone with a bunch of people I barely know." The rest of them gave an agreeing noise. Stan looked up at Beverly. Feeling like something was missing. More like someone. Oh right. "Where's Benjamin by the way?"

"Oh. He's out front with Mike." The four boys' heads shot to look at her. Obviously not expecting to hear Mike was here. Him being home schooled and everything.

"M-M-Mike's outside?" Bill questioned

"Sure is" she replied curtly. Sticking a forkful of her mac 'n' cheese into her mouth.

Stan stood up, taking his tray with him. Tossing the remainders of his lunch into the trash, before putting the tray down with the rest of the used ones. "Guys I'm heading out to Mike. I need to ask him about something."

"Oh boy, Stan The Man is gonna try roping Mikey-boy into the prom com"shit"ee" This earned a glare from, Stan and a light kick to the shin from, Eddie. When Stan was walking away, he could hear Eddie's voice in the distance say "I thought I told you to shut the fuck up?" Stan couldn't help but crack a small smile at that.   
  


Just as Beverly said. There they were. Mike and Ben. The two of them were sitting in the back of William Hanlon's, old pickup truck, now Mike's. Mike was grateful. Well, Mike would have been grateful if his father gave him an old rusted bicycle. That's just who he is. Sweet ol' Mike Hanlon. The two of them seemed to be deep in conversation with each other. If it weren't for the small amount of time they had for lunch, Stan would have let them finish whatever it is they were currently talking about. "Hey you two" He greeted. His hand raising slightly to give an awkward wave. The two boys turned and greeted him back.

"Oh, hey Stan" Ben said, waving back. That tight lipped smile of his that always seemed to brighten anyone's mood. His cheeks red from the hot weather of, Derry. Ben had grown into quite the handsome boy. When he was a kid, he was sweet, cute even. But now. Whew...let's just say Stan may have had an intruding thought or two about what Ben might look like in just his underwear. That was around two years ago though. Stan's hormones were no trouble to handle now. Or at least he hoped they were. Ben wasn't the tallest, but he was the fittest. Has practice for Track, every day. Stan doesn't know how he does it, honestly. He can't run up his house stairs without feeling a tad breathless.

"Hi, Stanley" Mike lifted his own hand to give a wave. Not as vibrant as Ben's but still very much a wave. Stan couldn't help but notice how strong, Mike's arms looked. He was wearing a plain, white tank top. And oh my, his pectoral muscles were very noticeable. Stan couldn't help but think that, that tank top was a little small on Mike's large frame. He had to tell himself to knock it off. He was here to ask a favor. Not stare at one of his best friend's muscles. Just as if Mike could sense he was here to ask him something, he asked "What's up?"

"Oh. It's nothing too big. I just wanted to know if you'd be up for something at prom night?" Mike's smile seemed to grow at that. "I know you don't go to school here, but I was wondering if-"

"Of course I will, Stanley!" His enthusiasm took Stan by surprise. He hadn't even let him finish.

"Um, you'd pick up the losers club after prom?...." Stan finished. And just as he looked to the ground awkwardly, Mike's smile fell for a moment. Then found it's way back onto his lips as soon as Stan looked back up.

"Oh...yeah. yeah of course, Stanley. Of course I will"

Stan smiled back to Mike. "Oh thank you, Mike. You're a life saver! I'll let you two get back to it then" He gave a nod before walking away. And as he looked back, his eyes caught Ben's hand reaching, then patting Mike on the shoulder. Stan simply shrugged as if it was nothing. Paying no mind to it.   
  


A week later and the school's car wash fundraiser was ready. The sun was shining just as bright as always and the weather was as hot as always. Stan sighed. Wiping the built up sweat off his forehead. Bill had called him in advance telling him he wouldn't be making it. He was going dress shopping with his prom date. Alicia something, was all Stan could recall. It's not like Bill loved her. It was one of those "Will you go to prom with me so I have someone to dance with" kind of things. Though Bill wouldn't be there, he did lend Stan a pair of his high-waist denim shorts.Bill was taller than Stan by a bit, so the shorts would be a little big on him. But he didn't really mind. So after a good washing (he loved Bill, but he hated borrowing anyone's clothes) he threw them on and found them to be a pretty good fit. The ends of the legs just reached above his shins. As for his shirt. It was his own. A simple roll sleeve tee. And to top it all off were a pair of pink sandals. Courtesy of his mother. He read that you should wear clothes you don't mind getting wet for these kinds of things. So he did.

"Yo, Stanny boy!" Stan turned to look at Richie. He was about to wave but deadpanned as soon as he saw what the boy was wearing. A pair of sneakers, and a pair of underwear. He had convinced Richie to give him and the other students a hand with washing the cars, but for fuck sake.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"I believe the question should have been 'what AREN'T you wearing' am I right, Eds?" Eddie, who was beside Richie, face-palmed. Eddie was wearing a normal summer days outfit. For Eddie that was a colorful t-shirt and a pair of short-shorts. In Eddie's hands was a duffel bag. Probably a spear change of clothes in case he got wet. Eddie had made it pretty clear that he wasn't down for washing dirty cars, but he would show up for moral support.  Stan was ready to call the police. Because he was about to commit murder.

"Stan, I swear. I tried to get him to wear more but he was...." Eddie turned to look at the grinning Richie "Stubborn..."

"No one's going to want you to wash their car when you're basically naked!" Stan threw his hands around. Not really knowing where to put them. If he stopped moving them, he was afraid they'd find their way around Richie's throat.

"Whaaaat? course they will! I mean, look at me" Eddie giggled a little at that. But shut up immediately when Stan glared daggers at him.

Stan then relaxed. Calmed himself. Then smiled. He had an idea "Wait, you know what. This is a good thing, Eddie"

"It is?" Eddie's eyebrows raised. Obviously not expecting that from, Stan.

"Yeah, yeah. With Richie here, looking like that, we're sure to get a ton of horny girls to show up."

Eddie was starting to sink down into himself "Uh..." He looked startled now. Worried even.

"Yep. They might just have a few grabs at him. I'm sure that'll be great. Right? Bunch of horny girls grabbing his ass?"

Eddie looked like he was going to blow a gasket "Richie, you're putting clothes on now!" Richie spun his head around. A frown appearing on his face.

"Aw come on, Eds I-"

"Nope. Here, I brought these clothes for a reason!" Eddie's face was red like a tomato. Stan couldn't help but laugh to himself. He was a genius. Eddie threw the duffel bag at Richie, forcing him to dress right then and there.

"Happy?" Richie mock asked when he was done.

Eddie and Stan looked to each other then back at Richie. "Very" they said in unison.   
  


The fundraiser was booming to say the least. Stan was pretty happy with himself. He had organised this. His flyers around town must have played a huge part in all this, surely. Richie was behaving himself, thanks to Eddie putting his foot down. That and he had a constant watch over him now. Yep, things were going great. He honestly thought it's be a lot more difficult to manage this whole prom thing.

"Hey, Stan!" It was Beverly. But she wasn't alone. She was with Ben and Mike. Sticking her head out of the window of Mike's pickup truck. Ben was in the middle seat, and of course Mike was the one driving. He and Bill were the only one's to get their license. Though Bill was only promised a car once school was over and when his grades results came back in. The old pickup truck took a stop next to Stan. Beverly and Ben heading over to Richie and Eddie as soon as they got out. Leaving Stan alone with Mike.

"Hi, Stanley. Looking good" Stan smiled. Sweet as always. That's sweet ol' Mike for you.

"Thank you, Mike. To be honest, I was a little nervous about giving Bill's denim shorts a try. But they fit and I guess that's all that matters" Mike nodded along, agreeing with Stan. "So. You want a wash for it?"

"That'd be great yeah." And there it was again. Mike's amazing smile. Stan suddenly found himself staring. Not really knowing why.

"Um, uh, yeah. Great. Well, you can go talk to the others, while I do this. If you want" He quickly added.

"Sure. Yeah. I'll be back in a few, though." And then he was gone, leaving Stan alone to wash the vehicle.   
  


Stan was getting the truck pretty good, he had to say. He was wiping in short vertical motions, then switching to horizontal ones. Repeating this process over and over. Then came the windshield. He was able to easily reach the sides of said windshield. But the middle was a little harder to do so. In the end, Stan chose to use one of the front wheels as leverage. He placed one foot onto the hard rubber, before hoisting himself up, hands pressing hard against the hood of the car. Then safely placed his other foot onto the wheel. There we go. He bent over, stretching his hand over to the middle of the windshield. Wiping away any dirt that was there. Now just when he was about to lift himself down, he felt a hand cup around his left buttock, pretty roughly. Stan jumped, letting out a small squeal that couldn't be helped. Stan basically jumped off the side of the truck. And whipped around. Ready to smack the shit out of Richie. That's who he expected it to be. "Richie, I swear to-"  _That's not Richie._   _Nope._  Some guy.  _Some guy?_ Some guy he'd seen around school a couple of times.  _Seriously?_. "Did you just-" Stan's voice caught in his throat as reality set in. This guy had just touched him in a sexual manner. Some guy he doesn’t even know. His hands were starting to shake. _'Why are you fucking shaking? It was just a grab. Don't let it get to you. Don't. Just report him. Oh honestly who'd believe him? an openly gay fag like him? No. The police don't care about "fags"  NO! Don't cry. Not now'_  His thoughts couldn't save him now. Tears were already brimming in his eyes. Ready to spill out, down his cheeks.

"Whoops. Sorry, man. Thought you were a chick. You should change outta those shorts" The guy shrugged before walking away. Stan watched him walk away. Not knowing what to do.  _'Say something! Say something you idiot. Don't let him get away with that. Punch him, kick him, do something!'_  The guy then joined a group of other guys. They all had shit-eating grins on their faces. Some of the boys giving out high-fives. Stan could faintly hear them talking. He could have sworn he'd heard the word "dare".  _'A dare? a stupid fucking dare?!'_  He felt so stupid. So fucking stupid. He slowly fell down onto his butt, back leaned against the wheel of the truck. He shoved his wet, warm face into his arms. Crying softly. 

"Stanley? Stanley!? What's wrong?" Mike? He felt large hands take hold of his slim shoulders. Mike.

Stan raised his head. Eyes red from the crying. He could see the worry on Mike's face, and that he was kneeling close to him. He felt even more stupid. Making his friend worry over something so small.

"Stan" Mike pushed. Stan. Mike hardly ever used 'Stan'. It sounded weird. But at the same time he liked it. Coming from Mike.

"It's nothing. I'm just overreacting. You know me. OCD-boy is acting up again. Such a freak..." The hands that were holding his shoulders were now holding his face.

"Overreacted to what, Stan? Tell me. Please"

"Those guys over there" Stan didn't point to them. Nod to them. Look over to them. But Mike turned and found them anyway. Like he knew where Stan was thinking of.

"What did they do, Stan? Did they say something about you?" Mike's hands were now at his sides. Stan already missing the protective touch they brought to him.

He shook his head. "The one in the sunglasses..."

"What did he do, Stan?" Mike wasn't taking his eyes off of the guy. Stan had never seen Mike this tense before.

"He..." He felt as if he was going to throw up. "He grabbed my..." He stopped.  _'This is humiliating'_  Mike looked back. Their eyes meeting. Stan's were filled with anger and sadness. But Mike's were filled with worry and rage. "My ass..." Stan finally got out. Though it came out like a strangles noise.

"He whAT?!" Stan flinched a little. Of all their years of hanging out. He couldn't recall a time he'd heard Mike ever shout in anger like that. Not once. Not even when someone gave Richie and Eddie Shit for kissing in public. Mike jumped to stand straight. But before he could move, Stan grabbed onto his hand.

"Mike. Don't. It's okay. It's not that big of a deal..."

"No, Stan. It's not okay! He can't think it's okay to just go up and touch someone like that whenever he wants!" But Stan wasn't budging. He knew if Mike were to start a fight, the police would be called. And Mike would be the one to catch the heat. He knew it. Derry was like that. He could hear Richie's announcer voice echo through his head now  **'Hey all you normal people out there! Come to Derry. It's all fine and dandy for us straight, white folk. But hey, if you're gay or black, then go fuck yourselves. Yessiree come on down to Derry, Maine and have yourselves the time of your life'.**

"Hey, you guys doing okay, over here?" Beverly peaked around from behind the rear of the vehicle. Worry striking her face just as fast as he imagined Mike's. "Shit. What happened?" She asked, leaning down next to Stan.

"That guy with the sunglasses put his hands on Stan" The bitter, rage filled words left Mike's mouth, and Stan's heart thumped. He knew this was no time to be admiring but god, he admired Michael so much. As on cue, Beverly's eyes shot open. Obviously pissed.

"Bev don-" Stan tried.

"Nope" Was all she said before walking over to the group of guys. Stan and Mike could do nothing but watch now. Stan's hand still gripped tight around Mike's. And then it happened. The slap was so loud, Stan could hear it. The guy's sunglasses sent flying onto the street. But it didn't stop there. Beverly's foot flew back, then forward, meeting it's destination in a second. And this kick would have any guy wincing. The guy fell to the ground, clutching hard at his crotch. Then she was leaning down, saying something to him. He couldn't make out what she was saying, but he was sure he'd find out soon enough.

Stan could tell Mike was still angry. After Beverly had punted that guy's nuts back into his body, she came back over. Richie, Ben and Eddie now in tow.

"Yowza! What the hell was that?" Richie exclaimed. Grabbing Beverly by the waist. She still looked pissed. But not as pissed as before. Now Eddie was by his side. Stan wasn't feeling embarrassment anymore. No. He was still majorly upset, but he felt safe now. (Almost) all his friends are here. He'd always feel safe around them.

"That asshole trying to find his balls, over there, copped a feel on Stan" Stan looked up at Richie to see his reaction. And his eyes looked even buggier than ever. His glasses magnifying the size of his widened eyes.

"Richard. Don't" Stan quickly demanded. Richie just nodded. It looked like he wasn't going to fight, Stan on this.

"You okay?" Eddie asked. Almost whispering it to him.

"I'm fine." They all looked at him as if he was lying. He rolled his eyes. "Alright. I'm angry, but I'm okay now.  Bev got him pretty good, alright? That makes me fifty percent better than I already was" He wiped away at his cheeks. Getting rid of any leftover watermarks. He sniffled and nodded to Mike, who in turn helped him up off the wet ground. "What did you say to him anyway, Bev?"

"Oh ya know. I used Ben's big muscles here as a threat!" They all smiled at that. "Said if he ever came near you, I'd have Ben snap him in half"  

The six of them stood their for a few moments. Most of it watching that guy being helped away by his friends. And the rest of it just standing their awkwardly. "I think I'm going to head home. The other students can take care of the money and all that. I trust them enough to do that." They all nodded their heads. Understanding. "Mike?"

"Yeah, Stanley?" Stan let out a sigh of relief of hearing his full name again.

"Would it be a bother if you took me home?"

The other boy chuckled and shook his head slowly. "Of course not, Stanley. Let's go"

"Here, Stan." Eddie's voice sounded from behind him. "You can use this towel to sit on" Oh, right. Stan wasn't thinking about it until now. But he would have changed his mind on the ride, once he remembered his wet bottom would be touching the seats. He wouldn't be able to mess up Mike's seats like that.

"Thanks, Eddie."

"No problem"  
  


"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Mike. Honest" The ride over to Stan's was quiet. Mike hadn't even put on any music. Which was odd, because he usually did. Mr. Hanlon had tons of cassette tapes. With tons of songs stuck on them. "Thanks again"

Mike had a confused expression set on his face now. "Thanks for what? I didn't do anything"

"No" his hand shot forward and found itself on Mike's thigh. "You were there to hold me, when no one else was" His hand squeezed tight on Mike's leg, as he shot Mike a weak smile.

"I'll always be there to hold you. Whenever you want" Now Mike's hand shot forward, landing atop Stan's. Were they always this close to each other? And no, I'm not talking about them personally. Because they are. The whole seven of them are. No, what he means is, were they always this close to each other in the truck? Their faces only a few inches away from each other. Stan was freezing from being wet, but his face felt like it was on fire. They were leaning closer, and closer and then-

"Stanley? Michael? That you two?" Donald Uris had just pulled into the Uris' driveway when he spotted the two. Bag of groceries in his hands. And now the two of them didn't seem that close to each other anymore. Stan exited the vehicle, taking the towel with him.

"Yes, Dad. It's us. Mike was just leaving." He turned to look at Mike one last time, giving him a wave. Mouthing a "thank you". Mike just smiled and drove off. Waving to Donald on his way. There was something there, Stan thought. Something different than what he has with the other losers...But like always, Stan shrugged it off. Paying no mind to it.   
  


When Stan returned those denim shorts to Bill, he found out Richie had told him everything. That was fine and all. But Stan would have preferred being the one to tell him.

"I-I-I'm go-going to fuh-fuh-fucking k-kill him!" Bill was furious. Pacing around his room like he was waiting on big, big news. His stutter was also more noticeable when he was angry. 

"Bill. There's no need to get mad over it. Really. Bev already handled it." And after that it was easy to calm the other boy down.   
  


It was Prom night. Finally. After all that organizing, planning and preparation, it was finally the night. Stan was already at the gym, the place being used as the prom by the way. He was waiting for the other losers to show up. Well, all of them except Mike. Home schooled, remember? Some hit pop songs were being played throughout the hall. Some students already dancing around. Some others standing around, drinking punch. And then some others who were next to the bleachers, drinking their own supplied beverages. Stan wanted order tonight, but there was no way he'd ever think of stripping the students of their alcohol.

Stan himself was wearing a dark, wine colored, single button tux. And underneath was a high collared, button down, plain white shirt. No ties at all. He wasn't really big on ties if he was being honest. He knew what Richie was wearing, because Richie had asked him for help on what to wear. Richie was going to be sporting a teal styled, open tux. No buttons. His shirt was as plain as Stan's. But Richie actually had a bow tie. A black one to compliment his shirt. It was spiffy, and he cleaned up well. Well, as well as Richie Tozier could get.

Speak of the devil. Richie came through the doors. Eddie's arm linked around his. Eddie was wearing a salmon colored blazer. His pants matching it with the same color. As for his shirt, it was white shirt with blue lines making up square shapes all over it. It was quite nerdy, if Stan said so himself.

Soon, the rest of the losers finally got here. Ben and Beverly were actually matching in color. Ben's suit was, Air superiority blue in color, as was Beverly's dress. Best looking couple at the dance, Stan thought. No offence to Richie and Eddie or Bill and his date. Speaking of, he actually went with the plain black tux, white shirt and black bow tie. It was ageless, classy and stylish. And he was handsome as ever.

"Damnnn Haystack. I'd jump your bones right here and now if it weren't for Beverly!" Ben was the only one chuckling.

"Wait, so if Beverly wasn't here, you'd jump my bones?" Richie nodded his head enthusiastically "Hey, Beverly. Want to go get us all some drinks?" Ben continued the joke. This earned Ben a big, wet smooch from Richie on the cheek. When releasing his lips with a loud 'pop' sound, Ben wiped it away "Gross, Rich" They all burst out laughing, except the girl Bill had as his date. She was looking at them all like they were aliens.

"Hey, St-Stan. So d-d-did you ever fuh-find a duh-date for prom?" They all turned to look at him now. But Stan looked like he had just found out he had cancer.

"Crap..." He had completely forgot to find himself a date! The whole prom and the car wash incident was too much apparently, because it blanked from his mind. How could he have forgotten? Bill pat his arm sympathetically, small pout on his lips.  

"It's all good, Stanny. You can sneak a few dances with us. And just dance next to us, yeah?" Beverly compromised, and Stan did admire that, he did. But he wasn't just looking to dance with friends tonight. He wanted to be held by someone. Held close to them. Maybe even share a kiss...maybe even- "Sound good, Stan?" He was spacing.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Sounds good. Thanks, Bev"  
  


A good while was spent drinking punch with the losers. Though of course, Richie had snuck in some alcohol. Stan wanted nothing to do with that. Someone had to be the parent tonight. All of them, even Eddie, had a sip or two of whatever Richie brought. Richie and Eddie already looking a bit tipsy. They'd get thrown out if they kept this shit up.He'd had a few dances with the losers. But he was still not feeling it. Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that he was one of the people that organized this prom, he probably would have left by now.

And now he was sitting in the stands. Watching everyone have fun. And just as if the night couldn't get any crummier, Mr. Groper showed up. Smug ass smile on his stupid, zit infested face. And as if faith had wanted it, he was making his way over to Stan. Great. "Oh hey, look who it is...the guy with a chick's ass!" Stan stood at that. Staring the guy down. Stan was just a little shorter than the guy. Right now, he was contemplating headbutting this guy in the teeth. It'll hurt yes, but damn, he just knew it'd feel great.

"Do I need to get my friend to come over?" Stan warned. But their was a mock tone in his words.

"Pfft. I ain't scared of, Ben Hanscom!"

"I wasn't talking about, Ben Hanscom." Stan smiled. "Let me ask. Do you want to have children in the future? or would you prefer a DIY vasectomy, because my friend could make that happen" The smug smile fell off the guys face. Stan then shoved past the guy, not giving him a second glance. That felt good. Even if he was using Beverly's kick to feel it.   
  


He was outside now. He needed some fresh air after that confrontation. And suddenly for, Stan, it all felt like too much. The stress of balancing studying for tests. The stress of being one of the main organizers for prom. The stress of being sexually assaulted and being forced to go to school with the guy who had done it, even if it was only for a few more months.

He needed to sit down. Like, now. And so Stan found himself in the parking lot. Sitting against a car. Crying softly to himself. Again. Was this just him overreacting again? was he being over dramatic about all of this? He couldn't help but let his mind cloud with crummy thoughts. And said crummy thoughts spawned more tears. Tears that Stan just let fall down his face and onto the asphalt. He was upset, but even so, he didn't want his tux to get stained with his tears.

"Stanley?"

Stan's red, wet eyes shot up to meet Mike's, brown, caring ones. "Mike? What...what are you doing here?"

"You asked me to pick up the gang, remember?"

Stan groaned to himself. Of course he forgot that too "Oh, right. Sorry"

"Don't be sorry, Stan." And then Stan's head was on Mike's shoulder. He doesn’t even remember, Mike sitting down next to him.

"I don't want to stain your shirt"

"I don't mind, Stanley"

Stan paused for a moment. "Thanks"

"No problem" Stan dug his face deeper onto the other boy's shoulder. His tears drying onto the soft fabric.

And now Mike's hand was brushing through Stan's hair. It felt nice. It felt right. Mike's hands always made Stan feel safe. His mind quickly flashed back to the first time he felt Mike's hands fall around him. Tugging on him tightly. Mike was always there to hold him, now that he thought about. Stan nudged his head in a way so that he was now staring up at Mike. Mike smiled back at him, hand still caressing his hair. "You want to talk about, Stanley?"

Stan shook his head no. "I'd rather not. I'd rather be having fun. Having fun like everyone else." Mike's hand stopped stroking his hair. Stan almost complained at the loss of such a refreshing feeling. Almost.

"Hey. Come with me" Now Mike was pulling him off further down the parking lot. Hand in hand.

"Where are we going?"

"To my truck" Stan mouthed an "oh" but didn't sound it. A short walk later and they were there. Before Mike opened up the drivers side of the vehicle, he had the dopiest grin on his face, and Stan couldn't help but grin along with him.

"What are you grinning about, Michael?" Stan asked, but never got an answer. Instead he got the view of Mike's back facing him, as he climbed halfway into his truck. A shuffling of what sounded like tapes was happening, and then a -click-

"Mike, what are you doing?" The curly haired boy asked.

Mike climbed back out of his truck, turning to face Stan. "Give it a minute. It's an old truck after all" Stan looked at his friend quizzically, eyebrows raising. What was he planning? That dopey grin was still on his lips. It was dark out, yet Stan could see. He could see that dopey grin, that dopey grin he loved to stare at. Those chocolate brown eyes of Mike's that just had him spacing all the time. His big, but cute nose, that Stan just wanted to peck with his lips. What? He was spacing again, because when he finally snapped back to reality, Mike's hand was held out in front of him.

"What?" Was all Stan could think of. He had no idea how long he had spaced out.

"May I have this dance?" Mike asks, quite shyly too.

Stan smiles. But he doesn't reach out, his hands are glued to his sides. "Mike, I really don't want any more 'just friends' dances tonight. I've had my fill of them, thank you very much"

"It doesn't have to be..."

"What do you mean" Stan shoots back almost instantly. His mouth suddenly feeling a little too dry.

"I mean. It doesn't have to be a 'just friends' dance. Not if you don't want it to be. Because...I don't want it to be"

Just as Stan was about to reply to that. Etta James' At Last boomed throughout the parking lot, at full volume. Both boys jumped a little, startled. "I told you, you have to give it a minute" Mike added, his grin turning into that of a shy smile. Then Stan was laughing. Clutching at his stomach as he did. Tears brimming in his eyes. Not sad ones, no. One's of laughter. Mike was confused to say the least. He actually looked a little frightened.

How could Stan have been so blind? All this time of wanting to be held and cared for. To be loved more than just a friend. All this time that was right before his eyes. And he hadn't even noticed. This beautiful, cliche of a man had been there for him this entire time, and Stan was to "occupied" with other stuff to give the possibility a second glance. His laughing was finally starting to die down. Their eyes met again. Mike's were filled with worry. Stan felt a little guilty for laughing now. So there was only one thing to do. Reassure Mike. Reassure him that what he just said, was the greatest thing he'd ever heard. Stan grabbed hold of Mike's hand, Mike's eyes widening as he did. "Michael. You're not getting cold feet now are you? Come on, the song's almost over" It seemed Mike had regained his composure, because his hand tightened around Stan's before ultimately loosening. In just a few seconds, their hands were set on each other. Stan's thin, slender hands finding Mike's broad shoulders. While Mike's large, callus ones finding, Stan's thin hips. It wasn't awkward at all. Not one bit. Not when it was with Mike. They swayed around slowly. Letting the song play out. The song eventually did end, but neither of them made a move to stop. They just stared into each others eyes. Slow dancing the night away to no music, in an empty parking lot, aside from the vehicles.

They were like that for a good while. Both of them pressing together closer and closer, until they could no more. Stan's hands moved away from Mike's shoulders and snaked around the back of his neck. Mike's neck felt strong in Stan's hands. And just as Stan made that move, Mike made one himself. His hands moving down around from the smaller boy's hips and landing on the small of Stan's back. This had them press even closer, if that was even possible. This action had Stan flushing. Actually flushing in the cheeks. The oxygen he was breathing felt hot and heavy now. His nerves were starting to get the better of him. He felt like he had to break away from this. But when Stan looked at Mike, he only found his nerves vanishing. And that's when Stan did it. Before any nerves could creep back up on him, he pressed his lips against Mike's. It was amateur at best. Stan might have pressed into them a little too hard. It was more than jut a brush of lips, but at the same time it wasn't. When Stan pulled back, Mike was smiling at him. That dopey smile again. "Thank you, Michael Hanlon" His head dropped against, Mike's chest. Yep, sweet ol' Mike Hanlon.

"You're welcome, Stanley Uris" His head dropping, resting atop Stan's.  
  
  
  
**/Hey there! If you're seeing this, thanks for giving this a full read. I really appreciate it! As always comments and kudos' are very welcomed <3\**


	2. A Massage isn't the Worst Thing in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> //Bill Denbrough get’s a football related injury. Richie wants to give him a massage, but Bill can be very stubborn. Though Richie has a way of getting what he wants.\\\

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Hey there anyone who see’s this. So...this is my first ever smut. Yep. So like, I’m an amateur at best alright. I read non-stop smut for the past 2 weeks. Gaining inspiration and tips from some wonderful writers! Anyway, I hope all who read this enjoy!\\\
> 
> //This chapter IS explicit. Contains smut. You've been warned\\\

"R-Richie will you puh-please stop th-that?" Bill was lying peacefully in his bed. Reading some Marvel comic. Or he was trying to, anyway. He had the whole week off. No classes. No football training. He had been injured you see. It happened during practice. He had gotten a real nasty tackle, left a big set of bruises on his abdomen and ribs. So he was taking it easy. And that meant being as comfortable as he could be. However, it was hard to relax when his roommate and boyfriend, Richie Tozier, was across the room, having a blast with his paddle ball. "I'm trying t-t-to read over here, R-Rich." Richie seemed to speed his hand's pace. The ball bouncing off the thin wood even faster now. Bill could see the side of Richie's smirk. Bill threw his comic onto the drawer next to his bed, wincing at the slight stretch his body had to make, to do so. "R-R-Richie knock it o-o-o-o...Stop it!" Bill's ears were turning red now. Obviously annoyed.

Richie jumped to sit up. Throwing his paddle ball to the end of his own bed. His smirk still very much there. "Now that you're done that comic of yours, wanna now?" So that's what this was about. of course it was. Richie just loved to touch Bill. Richie has been whining and begging for Bill to allow him, to give him a massage, ever since Bill got hurt at practice. You know. To ease some tension in those aching muscles of Bill's. Of course...But Bill had been adamant about the whole thing. Saying something like  _'I-if I let you ma-ma-massage me, you're j-just going to turn it i-into sex'._  But of course, Richie had promised he wouldn't. So eventually after hours of begging, Bill finally agreed to let Richie massage him. After his comic book. And obviously, Richie was very impatient.

With a loud sigh. Bill motioned his head in a way that told Richie to come over to his side of the room. "Finally. Geeze-Louise Billy-boy. You're actin' like a massage is the worst thing right now." Richie was at the feet of his boyfriend's bed now, making sure to gently plop himself onto the comfy mattress, sitting cross-legged . Stupid grin on his face. "Sooooo. Where do you want me to start, Big Bill?" The eagerness in Richie's voice was cute, Bill thought. A little too cute. Bill had a guess of where this massage was going to end up. And at the moment, he had no idea if that was a good thing or not.

"Y-Y-You can start b-by gently,  _gently_ , R-Rich. Taking off m-my clothes..." Richie's head bounced up and down with enthusiasm. "B-But leave my u-underwear on!" The bright blue eyed boy quickly added. Richie's grin shrunk a bit at that, but grew just as fast as it had shrunk. Richie's hands shot up in a defensive manner.

"You got it, Bill. Cross my heart. I promise you!" He said while he crossed over his own chest with his pointer finger. Richie's eager hands found themselves at the waist of Bill's pajama pants. That's what Bill was wearing. Pajamas. He didn't need to get dressed if all he was going to be doing was 'taking it easy' for the week. Richie then set about pulling those pajama pants down, Bill's long, slender, but muscled legs. Bill lifted himself a little, with the help of his elbows. Giving Richie easy access to pull the pants down. Which he did. The pants were off, and currently thrown onto the floor. Bill couldn't help but notice that Richie's eyes looked a little hungry behind those big glasses of his.

Richie's warm hands rubbed along Bill's tough shins. Richie gave a low whistle as his hands reached the ends of Bill's underwear. "You sure you don't want me to take these off? I can make it worth your while" Richie suggested, pinching the fabric with the tips of his fingers. While his eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

"R-Richie" Bill warned.

"Alright. Alright. Don't go getting your panties in a twist, Bill." Bill sighed. Glad Richie might just take this seriously now "Because twisting them is my job" Richie's voice now being as flirtatious as possible.

Bill's elbows dug deeper into the bed as he lifted himself up even further. Wincing at the pain that came with doing so. "R-"

Richie cut Bill off before he could even begin to stutter though. "Kidding, Bill! Just relax, yeah?" Richie's voice was now full of care. His eyes looking Bill all over. Like he was making sure, Bill was okay.  Bill didn't know if he was going to be able to take this. How was he possibly going to get a massage from Richie, while he kept pulling jokes out of his ass every minute. "Come on, Big Bill. Let me help get that shirt off, yeah?" Bill nodded. A small pout on his lips. Richie's now gentle hands carefully wrapped around Bill's shoulders. Then proceeded to lift. Bill tried not to gasp at the movement. But he did. "Woah, shit. You alright, Billy?" Richie's thumbs slowly circling into Bill's arms now.

This instantly made Bill feel better. Yeah, Richie could be an ass, but he was the most caring person, Bill knew. He'd never hurt any of the losers. Not on purpose anyway. "I-I'm fine, Rich. Just g-get t-this shirt off"

"Yes sir!" Now that Bill was steady, sitting up. Richie left him there, then moved down to the hem of his shirt. His hands wrapping themselves in the fabric. "Alright, Mr. Billiam. Lift those arms" So Bill did. Again, wincing in pain from stretching his body in this way. But Richie was good at taking clothes off, so the shirt had joined the pants on the floor in no time. Before Richie was going to help Bill back onto his back, he took in the sight of those bruised ribs of Bill's. Then his eyes wandered across to Bill's abs. The sight was glorious. Richie wanted nothing more than to drag his hands all over Bill's body now. He then eased Bill back down onto his back. Bill already felt comfortable again. All that was left now, were Bill's socks. "Ah, always save the easiest for last. That's my motto. I used that method on you, ya know. Stan, Beverly, Mike, Eddie and Ben all said no to my advances! But not you! Nope, you actually wanted this di-"

"B-Beep beep R-R-Richie"

"Okie doke" Bill's socks were now tossed onto the floor with the rest of his clothes. It wasn't neat. But neither Bill or Richie were neat when discarding clothes. Be it for sex or just in general. "So. Can I start now, or you gonna read some more comics before letting me?"

"I-I d-don't know, Rich. T-That  Defenders i-i-issue thirty two luh-looks p-p-pretty good" Now it was Bill's turn to smirk.

"Hah. Hah. Good one, Denbrough."

"Th-thanks." They both stared at each other, then just burst out laughing. The two of them laughed with each other a lot. More than any of the other losers. they were close like that. Which is probably the reason, why they worked so well together. "O-Okay. You c-can start now"

Richie cheered, breaking from his previous sitting position to set himself down onto his knees. He quickly moved to Bill's feet. "I'm going to work my way up your body, baby" Bill's cheeks heated up at that comment. Of course Richie was going to get like this during the massage. Richie's hands squeezed around Bill's feat. Making sure his fingers really got into it. Digging into the soles of Bill's feet. But in a pleasant way. Richie knew his way around a body. Specifically Bill's, as Bill did Richie's. Now that Bill thought about it, they've been together since high school. Meaning they've had years of experience with each other. They knew how each of them liked it during sex. They knew where each of them liked to be touched the most. If Bill was topping, he liked to fuck into Richie slow and by slow, he meant painfully slow. He loved watching Richie come undone. Be it underneath him, or while Richie was riding him. Bill loves it. And if Richie was topping. He liked to fuck into Bill fast. He knew Bill could take it. He was a quarterback after all, he could take most poundings, according to Richie. Richie loves doing it doggy style. He loves bending Bill over and taking him. Whenever, wherever. Just watching his dick sliding in and out of Bill, was always enough to get Richie over the edge in no time. As for their hot-spots. Bill always lost it when Richie would suck on his collarbone. He loved the feeling of Richie's mouth all over it. Tracing it with kisses and hickeys. While, Richie's favorite hot-spot was actually his thighs. Richie did the most adorable whine, when Bill would lick the insides of his thighs. It was another way to wreck Richie, without actually fucking him. Yeah, Bill knew Richie's body, just as Richie knew his.

Bill's eyes snapped open. He just realized he'd been thinking about the ways he and Richie fucked and touched each other. Bill didn't need to look to know that he was hard. He could feel the strained friction against his underwear. He had also just realized that Richie's hands were now way up on his hips. Had he really been in his mind that long? "Woahhh. Someone likes massages!"  _Damn it!_. Bill's own body had betrayed him. It wasn't even Richie's doing. It was his own! "So, you want me to help with that?" Richie asked, hands still massaging carefully around Bill's hips. Threatening to go lower.

"N-no. K-keep going" Bill's own words weren't even that convincing to him.  _Fuck!_

This earned a scoff from Richie "Hah. Stuttering Bill. More like  _stubborn Bill._  Jesus, look that you. Your cheeks are as red, as my ass  that one time we tried spanking! Your underwear could be used for at least ten campers for Christ's sake!" Bill just stared him down. He really didn't want to be thinking about Richie's freshly spanked ass right now. It'd just escalate things. In a good way, but still. His ocean blue eyes meeting dark brown one's. Richie eventually gave in though. Richie was right, Bill really could be stubborn when he wanted to be. "Fine, Big Bill, have it your way." Richie proceeded with the massage. Every few seconds, Bill would sneak a glance up at Richie, who was grinning like an idiot. Bill wasn't going to give in though. He was going to let Richie finish this massage. And then he was going to go back to reading his comic. That's what's going to happen. Bill just wish he believed that. When Richie finally made it to Bill's ribs, he went stiff as a board. The small bit of the massage he did pay attention to was nice, but as soon as Richie made a move on his sides, he didn't want to pay attention. It was going to hurt he knew it would. No matter how gentle Richie went. He never even wanted a massage in the first place! Then he felt them. Richie's fingers softly press against his bruised skin. Bill's body jolted up at the feeling. It actually stung.

"Ow, ow. S-stop." Bill's hand involuntarily shot forward, grabbing at Richie's hand. The one he was using to massage Bill's ribs. Or the one he tried to massage Bill's ribs with. "F-Forget massaging there. It h-hurts too bad."

"You sure, Billy?" There it was. Richie's soft tone. Bill let himself fall back onto his back. Head resting comfortably on his pillows.

"Y-Yeah. J-Just luh-l-leave it. I'll be f-f-fine" Bill threw his forearm over his eyes. His demeanor relaxing again. Bill's erection had softened. Still there. Just it was only half-hard now. Bill then he felt Richie's hand. It was moving down. And down. And down. And  _oh god_ , Bill didn't want to stop him. "R-Rich" The hand stopped. Right at the waistband of Bill's boxer briefs. Bill uncovered his eyes, only to see Richie's face right in front of his.

"Come on, Bill. Let me make you feel good. If the massage is a no-go, then let me do this." Richie's fingertips then slipped under the waistband. Then Richie pecked him on the lips. Then again. Then a peck to his cheeks. Then his jawline. And  _oh god_. He was kissing his collarbone now. Bill's eyes shut closed as he dug his head deeper into his pillows, a hoarse, husky moan escaping his throat. He was trying his best to keep all those moans under wrap, but it was difficult. He could feel Richie's smirk against his skin.  _Damn it_. He was getting hard again. Fuck, Richie was good. Bill could feel his boyfriend's lips part on him, only for his warm, wet tongue to emerge and lap his skin with soft, little licks. Bill couldn't help the moans now. There was no way. "What do you say, Big Bill? Will you let me?" Richie's fingers were brushing through his neatly trimmed pubes now.

He almost couldn't get the words out. His throat was going dry. That and he was too busy loving the attention Richie was giving him right now. But he managed. "W-We can't ha-have s-sex. I-I'm too banged up" Richie's lips left his skin. Leaving Bill feel the loss of it full force. He was almost tempted to grab Richie by the hair and force his mouth back onto him.

"That's cool, Bill. This is for you. Not me. Let me make  _you_  feel good" Richie put massive emphasis onto that 'you'. It was actually really hot, in Bill's opinion. "Please, Bill. I'll make you feel real good, baby" He cooed. And that was all Bill needed to change his mind. Bill gave him a shy nod. Richie's face lit up at that. Bill also noticed his cheeks were just as red as he imagined his own to be. It was only to be expected. Once the two of them got into it like this. They were just one big mess together. Richie hopped off the bed and walked over to the end of it. Then proceeded to crawl onto it and keep doing so, until his face was directly above Bill's crotch. Bill's head was tilted up. Watching and waiting in anticipation. Eyes hungry with lust. Just as Richie's were. Richie needed no help from Bill to get him out of his underwear. It was easy. And when Richie did get Bill's underwear off, Bill's cock sprung forward, hitting Richie's chin. "Yowza! Someone's excited to get in my mouth, eh?"

"B-beep b-oh - f-fuck" Bill's hips thrust forward. Unable to control them at that very moment. Richie had wasted no time. The warmth of Richie's mouth enveloping Bill's cock whole. "Sh-shit, R-Rich..." Richie's head graciously moved up and down. He was already taking Bill's cock into the back of his throat. Richie was an expert at sucking dick. The best, in Bill's opinion.

But after only a few minutes Richie's mouth was now leaving Bill's dick. An audible 'pop' sound as he did. Saliva tracing down his lightly tanned dick. This caused Bill to groan out in frustration "You like that, baby?" Richie had asked. Bill was already a mess. He needed this. He needed the relief. He was too pent up to actually wait. He needed Richie's mouth now.

"P-Put your m-mouth back d-down. Now" Bill's voice was deep and that just sent chills down Richie's spine. So Richie bowed back down, as commanded. And he began again. Head bobbing up and down as wet gagging sounds filled the quiet dorm room. "A-oh...f-fuck, Richie...a-a-ah shit...t-take it d-deeper" Bill groaned out. Richie, just like before, gave into Bill's command. Forcing his head down lower and lower until his nose was pressing into Bill's pubes. Richie's sense of smell was taking Bill in. All of him. And he loved it. Richie was the type of guy who wouldn't give a shit if you were planting a bush down there. Not that Bill was. No, Bill was always perfectly groomed down there. Not completely hairless, but not messy either. Then Bill grabbed onto his boyfriend's hair. Taking it hard in his hand. Richie let out a small groan at this. Richie loved his hair being pulled. It was a thing with them when they had sex. But again, just like when he stretched his arm out before, the pain from his injury came rushing back. But this time, he didn't wince from it. He moaned from it.  _Fucking moaned._  Bill pulled Richie up by his hair. Both of them staring into each others eyes, as Richie's mouth was still around his cock. Then Bill's eyes locked onto Richie's mouth. His lips were darkened and wet with saliva. The sight itself was almost enough to cum to, right then and there. And then Bill shoved Richie back down onto his dick. He wanted to move his hips so badly. To fuck into Richie's hot, wet mouth. But he knew if he did a lot of moving around, he'd feel the pain of his injury at least two times worse than it already was. "S-shit, R-Rich. You're taking me s-so guh-guh...well. Oh f-fuck!" Bill's hand slipped away from Richie's hair, as it fell to his side. He was close. He knew it. And Richie knew it. Richie pulled off Bill's dick once again. Bill's chest heaving up and down. His closing orgasm quickly fading away.

"You okay there, Big Bill?" Richie asked just as his hand snaked around Bill's throbbing dick, slowly setting a pace. Pumping it up and down. Precum dripping from Bill's slit, leaking down his shaft.  Bill was finding it so hard not to move around. He wanted Richie to hold him down. But he knew that'd hurt after a short while. Bill nodded nonetheless to Richie's question though. "Good. I'm glad, baby. Glad I can make you feel this good. So fucking glad" Bill sobbed out as Richie's hand quickly picked up it's pace. There was no need for lube after all that. Richie's saliva and his own precum were more than enough to get things going. Then Bill's breath hitched as a jolt of pleasure shot through him. Along with jacking him off at an insane pace, Richie was also tonguing at Bill's slit. The only thing coming out of Bill's mouth now were strangled noises. Unable to actually compose anything that was feasible for speaking. He felt Richie's tongue lift "Good boy, Billy. You're such a good boy for me. I love it when you're speechless." And then Bill felt the tongue dip back into his head's slit. Bill was fussing around. Richie was able to keep his legs steady by sitting on them, but his hands were rubbing against the bed, not really knowing what to do with them. So Bill gripped onto his sheets. In his cloudy mind, he found that was the best solution. And then it was just Richie's hand again. "You look so beautiful, Big Bill. So fucking beautiful." Bill was squirming now. He couldn't help it anymore. He was so close. _So close._  "You want to cum, baby?" Bill tried nodding his head, but the pleasure was too much. "You want to finish in my mouth or finish on your bruised abs, and watch me lick the cum off of you"  _'The second one!'_  Bill's mind screamed. God, he wanted that so bad. So,  _so bad_. "I think I know what you want, baby. Moan for me if you want the second one. Do it, Bill" Oh god. He did. He moaned as loud as he could. No stifled moans or groans in this room. Nope. He wanted Richie to know what he wanted. "Good boy. Such a good boy for me. I'm so lucky to have you" Bill would have said the same if he could.

Bill watched as Richie aimed his cock towards his abs. Still pumping furiously. The sounds his slick cock and Richie's slick hand made were fantastic. Music to his ears. Not enough to get him there yet though. "R-Rich...m-more" Bill was finally able to get out. However his words came out like soft whimpers. But Richie understood. They knew each other too well. He felt Richie's left hand cup around his balls. His fingers brushing the sack gently. Bill's breaths were erratic now. This was it. He could feel the fire burning in his bruised abdomen. "F-F - sh-shit. Y-Yes, Rich. I-I'm ab-about t-to c-c-c-" But he never got to finish. Bill's head fell back. Eyes rolling into the back of his head as he came. His warm cum spurting all over his abs. Richie lazily stroking him through his orgasm. Bill loved every moment of it. Because in that moment of his orgasm, he could feel no pain. Only pleasure. Bill's breathing was returning to normal now as he came down from his high. And as spent as he was. He wanted to see this through. He wanted to watch his beautiful boyfriend clean him. Clean him with his tongue. Bill lifted himself, again with the help of his elbows.

Richie grinned at him "Oh, so you really,  _really_  wanted a show, huh" Richie bowed his head one last time. Lapping up Bill's semen. Every last drop. Bill watched Richie's throat pulse as he swallowed it all down. If it weren't under these circumstances, Bill was sure he'd be able to go for a round two after seeing that take place.

"Sh-shit, Richie"

When Richie got back up onto his knees he gave Bill a great big smile "You like that?" The boy with glasses asked, as he crawled to the left side of Bill. Richie's back now facing the wall. Bill still lying on his back. Bill could feel Richie's erection through his jeans. He was insanely hard, he could tell.

"You wuh-want me t-to take c-care of you now?"

"Nah, Bill. It's fine. I'll be fine with just a kiss. Unless, you don't like the taste of your own cum?"

"Of c-course not, Richie. C-come here" Richie leaned in closer as Bill tilted his head to the side. Richie's hand cupping his chin, as their lips connected. It was a lazy, sweet, passionate kiss. Just the right kind of kiss you'd give someone after sex. It was tough to get into the blankets without getting off the bed, but they managed it. They were now snuggled underneath. Letting the warmth of their body heat and the blanket take them.

They lay there in silence. Bill's naked body against Richie's fully clothed one. Richie's leg left tangled in between Bill's. Richie's left arm placed carefully over Bill's chest. While Bill's left arm was wrapped around Richie, pulling him closer. Then Richie broke the silence "You know when you're all tip-top shape again, I'm going to fuck you. Like, hard. It might not even be in this bed. It might not even be in this room!" He said it like it was the most normal of things to say.

Bill just chuckled. Richie's arm moving as his chest breathed up and down. "Sure thing, R-Rich. I-I'll owe y-you that" Richie grinned, then pressed his lips against Bill's cheek. Snuggling in closer if possible. The two would soon drift off to sleep.   
  
  
**/Hey there! If you're seeing this, thanks for giving this a full read. I really appreciate it! As always comments and kudos' are very welcomed <3\**  
  



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